Chapter 49: Link for the Save

[Paradise Falls Diner: Freezer Room]

The freezer room was a cold, sterile tomb, its walls lined with frost and the faint hum of machinery the only sound breaking the silence. A thin white sheet covered Percy's lifeless form, the fabric barely masking the harsh truth beneath. Bob stood over the body, his fingers tracing the edge of his Zippo lighter, the rhythmic click of the lid snapping open and closed the only sound. His eyes were glassy with unshed tears, his lips pressed into a thin line as he stared down at his friend, his partner in late-night diner banter, his brother-in-arms against a world gone to hell.

Jeep lingered in the doorway, his shadow long and hesitant. "We should get back out there, Dad."

"Just... gimme another minute," Bob muttered, his voice low and ragged. He didn't look up, his gaze fixed on the still form beneath the sheet.

Jeep nodded, stepping back into the hallway. The door creaked shut, leaving Bob alone with his grief.

...

Across the diner, Arlo sat slouched in a booth, one foot tapping against the floor in a slow, restless rhythm. His eyes stayed on Audrey, who fiddled with Percy's old radio, turning the dial back and forth through waves of static. The sound grated on his nerves like nails on a chalkboard, but he didn't speak. Instead, he watched as her frustration grew with each failed attempt.

She leaned in closer, her brow furrowed. A hint of something... was that a voice?

"Wait." Her whisper was sharp with hope. She adjusted the antenna, her fingers trembling slightly as the signal sharpened. "Hey... I think I've got something."

Arlo straightened, his eyes narrowing. "Let me hear." His ears perked up, straining to catch the faint, gravelly words buried beneath the static.

"Come on, come on..." he muttered under his breath.

Audrey twisted the dial once more, and the voice came clearer. Tired. Strained. But unmistakably human. "...battling has been fierce. Casualties are unknown, but indications are that they must be unimaginably large..."

"Hey!" Arlo barked, his voice cutting through the din. "You guys, get over here! I think we've got something!"

Footsteps pounded on the floor as the others rushed to the booth. Kyle, Michael, and Charlie crowded around, their eyes wide with anticipation and fear. Even Bob appeared, his face shadowed with sorrow but drawn by the promise of news.

The voice from the radio continued, crackling through the haze of static. "...good news, if you can call it that. A human militia has formed outside Las Vegas, engaging the enemy. Reports of resistance forces... Four Corners... Red Rock National..."

Charlie's voice cut through the static-laden air. "That can't be more than an hour up the highway from here."

Audrey, leaning closer to the crackling radio, asked with cautious hope, "Does that mean we can leave?"

Michael's eyes remained steely. "No. We're not going anywhere."

Bob slammed his fist on the counter, his face flushing red. "What the hell are you talkin' about? This is our chance!"

Arlo sighed, stepping forward with measured calm. "And get Charlie caught in crossfire while carrying the savior of humanity? Great plan."

He gestured pointedly at her belly. "We move now, and her baby's a sitting target."

Bob's jaw tightened as he glanced at Charlie. Defeated, he turned away, muttering under his breath. Charlie's expression twisted with frustration, her anger bubbling just beneath the surface. With a sharp motion, she swept a stack of plates off the counter. They shattered loudly as she stormed off toward the bathroom, leaving a tense silence behind.

The radio's voice continued its grim broadcast. "...may God give us strength to survive... mercy for those already lost..."

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[Paradise Falls Diner: Rooftop]

Hours passed as the sun dipped lower into an invisible horizon. Sand swirled in ghostly shapes outside.

On the roof, Arlo sat between Kyle and Audrey. He kept his eyes on the horizon, the prickling sensation of his danger intuition crawling along his spine.

Kyle grinned as he showed Audrey how to grip the MP5. "Thumb here. Safety off like this. Don't flinch when you pull."

Audrey smirked, confidence flickering. "Got it. Point and click."

Arlo smirked, shaking his head. "If you two get any cozier, I'm gonna suggest you get a room."

They burst out laughing, the sound briefly cutting through the oppressive atmosphere.

Suddenly, a red glow bathed them as the rooftop sign Paradise blazed to life. Below, fluorescent lights flickered and gas pumps lit up.

"Whoa," Kyle whispered, raising his gun warily.

"That's... creepy," Audrey murmured.

The entire truck stop was illuminated, as if open for business in a world gone dark.

Arlo muttered, "Business hours for the apocalypse..."

Kyle lowered his gun for a moment, looking at Audrey. "You better get downstairs."

Audrey set her jaw. "No. I can handle this."

Kyle hesitated, then pulled out a silver .45, pressing it into her hand. "Just in case."

The hum of an engine grew louder. Headlights pierced the twilight as a minivan careened wildly off the highway, skidding to a halt by the pumps.

"Get ready," Arlo whispered. He adjusted his stance, eyes locked on the vehicle.

The headlights cut through the thick darkness as the family minivan swerved into the gas station, its tires screeching to a halt at the pumps. Arlo narrowed his eyes, gripping his AR-15.

"This isn't right," he muttered.

Kyle was already aiming his MP5, finger twitching against the trigger. Audrey, clutching her .45, whispered anxiously, "Are they real people?"

"Be ready," Arlo said firmly, his eyes scanning every shadow.

The driver's side door creaked open, and a well-dressed man stepped out, visibly shaken. He glanced nervously around, then waved at his wife and young son, motioning for them to stay put.

"Hey! Get back in your car!" Kyle shouted. His voice was sharp, urgent. "It's a trap!"

The man seemed oblivious to the warning, lost in the deafening howl of the wind. He fumbled with the gas pump, his movements frantic. Arlo's danger intuition surged like a siren in his mind.

BLAM! BLAM! BLAM!

Kyle fired into the air, the sound cracking through the night.

The man flinched, looking up toward the roof. His wide eyes caught the silhouettes of armed figures. His family began to scream.

"Look out!" Audrey yelled, pointing at the dark shapes creeping toward the vehicle.

"It's them!" Arlo hissed, raising his weapon as skeletal hands clawed at the van. The creatures moved with inhuman speed, their eyes gleaming with malice.

"Wait! You'll hit the kid!" Audrey pushed Kyle's barrel down just as he aimed.

"Damn it!" Kyle growled before making a reckless decision. He sprinted forward, leaping off the sloped roof in a controlled slide, landing with a thud.

"Kyle, no!" Arlo shouted. His voice carried desperation, but Kyle was already charging into the fray, his movements fluid and deadly.

Blasting through the possessed with uncanny precision, Kyle reached the young boy huddled on the ground. He scooped him into his arms, shielding him from the monstrous hands.

"Audrey! Cover us!" Arlo yelled, throwing a glance at her.

Without hesitation, Audrey lit the rag of a Molotov and hurled it into the swarm. Flames erupted, forcing the creatures back momentarily.

Arlo leapt down like a trained acrobat, landing with a perfect roll that absorbed the impact and kept his momentum smooth. His body moved like water, no wasted motion, every muscle aligned with precise intent. In one fluid motion, he drew a tarot card from his coat, a quick flick of his wrist sent it slicing through the air. The card glinted briefly under the dim light before embedding itself into the jaw of the possessed boy Kyle was holding. Just as he was about to sink his teeth into Kyle's neck.

"Let go!" Arlo's voice cut through the chaos, firm and commanding.

Kyle dropped the boy like a burning ember, stumbling back as shock widened his eyes. Arlo didn't pause to watch; his instincts screamed at him to move, to cover, to fire. His AR-15 came up in a blur, the sight locking on as five more possessed surged forward with insect-like speed and grotesque twitching limbs.

BAM! BAM! BAM!

The rifle barked fire, rounds ripping through torsos and limbs. Arlo's shots were precise, each aimed for disabling impact. He swept his line of fire across the wave, but as the last click echoed from the rifle's chamber, the weapon ran dry.

[EXP Gained: +500]

The flashing notification was a distraction he ignored.

"Reload, damn it," he muttered to himself, but there was no time. The possessed closed in, their eyes hollow pits of hunger and rage.

Arlo let the AR-15 drop to his side on its strap, already reaching for the Pit Viper in his coat. The sleek pistol slid into his palm like a trusted companion. He aimed with mechanical efficiency.

BANG! BANG!

The gun roared.

[Pit Viper Effect Activated - 2X Headshot - 162 Critical Damage]

The first possessed dropped, its skull exploding in a spray of dark ichor.

BANG! BANG!

Another double shot, another body convulsed as twin holes burned through its temples.

[Pit Viper Effect Activated - 2X Headshot - 156 Critical Damage]

[EXP Gained: +200]

Arlo exhaled sharply, lowering the barrel only slightly as smoke curled from its tip. Four shots, four kills. The possessed crumpled like puppets with severed strings, their grotesque spasms slowing until they were utterly still.

He glanced at Kyle, who was breathing hard, his grip tight on his MP5 but his hands shaking. "Thanks," Kyle croaked, voice hoarse.

"Don't mention it," Arlo replied, a wry grin curling his lips. "Really. Don't. I've got enough on my plate without being a hero."

Audrey continued throwing Molotovs, the inferno spreading, but the wave of possessed was relentless.

Suddenly, the diner door burst open. Michael stormed out, his rifle blazing. His shots tore through the mob, giving Arlo and Kyle room to retreat.

"Run!" Michael commanded.

Together, they sprinted for the open door. Behind them, the minivan exploded, a fiery blast roaring outward.

The flames chased them, hungry and swift. Kyle and Arlo dove through the entrance, rolling as the fire licked at their heels. Michael followed, his coat trailing smoke, his eyes fierce.

Jeep slammed the door shut just as the inferno surged against the building.

Everyone hit the floor as fire fingers clawed at the windows, casting monstrous shadows inside.

"Is everyone okay?" Jeep asked, voice trembling.

Michael stood, his clothes smoldering. "Check the barricades," he said. His voice was calm, unshaken.

Bob and Jeep rushed to pat him down, extinguishing the last embers. Arlo sat up, his heart racing but his expression composed.

"That was insane," Kyle whispered.

"Welcome to the apocalypse, man" Arlo muttered, adjusting his coat. His mind raced, but outwardly, he remained a mask of control.

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[Paradise Falls Diner: Inside]

The tension in the air thickened as Charlie dashed behind the counter. Her trembling hands reached for the sink, filling a pitcher with water. The sound of rushing water echoed unnaturally in the quiet of the diner. She turned, the pitcher sloshing in her grip and then her breath caught in her throat.

A scream tore from her lips.

Standing before her was the possessed boy. His lifeless white eyes stared unblinking, and his mouth, still ruined by Arlo's earlier attack, twisted into a grotesque smile. In his small hands, he gripped a butcher's knife nearly as long as his arm.

"C'mon," he hissed through mangled teeth. "Don't be scared. I just wanna play with your baby." The sound was guttural, each word dripping malice.

Charlie stumbled backward, the water pitcher falling to the floor with a crash. Her back hit the counter. She scrambled, her hands searching for anything a weapon, a shield—as the boy advanced with predatory patience.

The knife slashed through the air, its edge glinting even in the dim light. It sliced cleanly across her waitress uniform, just grazing her swollen belly. Gasping, she shoved herself farther back until there was nowhere left to go. The end of the counter loomed behind her, her pulse hammering in her ears.

"No... stay away!" Charlie's voice cracked as she flung out her arm, knocking down a baking pan. Her fingers closed around it desperately. She swung the pan with all her strength.

CLANG!

The knife struck the pan with a metallic scream, sparks flying on impact. The force jarred the boy's hands, causing them to slide down the blade. Blood sprayed as his fingers were sliced to ribbons, but the knife slipped from his grasp and clattered to the floor.

Before he could react, Arlo's voice cut through the chaos. "Get down!"

A tarot card flew through the air, sharp as a blade. It hummed with lethal precision, severing the boy's hand at the wrist in one fluid motion. The dismembered hand dropped, still twitching, as black ichor spurted from the stump.

Link launched himself over the counter like a missile. His eyes glowed with a fierce light, his body radiating a pink aura as he obeyed Arlo's command: "Link, use Play Rough!"

Link struck the boy with unrelenting ferocity. Teeth bared, claws digging deep, he mauled the possessed child. His bites tore through flesh, his paws pounded relentlessly until the boy's form became a mass of torn sinew and broken bone. The creature let out a final, gurgling screech before falling still.

Charlie pressed herself against the counter, her chest heaving. Her eyes remained fixed on Link, now panting with exertion. The dog turned his head toward her, his tail wagging expectantly, his expression almost asking, Did I do good?

For a heartbeat, fear flickered in Charlie's eyes. But then she swallowed hard, her breath catching as she realized the truth: Link had saved her life. She reached out, her hand trembling, and placed it on his head.

"You... you're one ferocious dog," she whispered.

Link barked once, happily, before leaning into her touch. His tongue flicked out to lick her hand.

The moment of relief was short-lived. The lights above flickered, then died completely. Darkness consumed the diner once again, a thick, suffocating blackness that swallowed the small island of safety they had carved out.

"Everyone stay sharp," Arlo muttered, his voice low and cold. He wiped the blood splatter from his face, his Pit Viper still in his hand.

The hum of silence was broken only by the ragged breaths of the survivors. The storm outside howled like a beast, and in the shadows, the real monsters waited.

****************************************************************************

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